


crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand

by basketofnovas (slashmarks)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: BDSM, Bloodplay, Bondage, F/F, Needles, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmarks/pseuds/basketofnovas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere there was a tiny, far off corner of her mind that wasn't occupied with how very red the spot of blood on Natalya's cheek was against her pale skin, and the way the pain of the needles felt like white hot sparks in Erzsébet's skin. In that part, that in fact seemed completely detached from the present situation, Erzsébet thought that humming intelligibly around so many needles was an impressive achievement. She also wondered if putting them in her mouth like that was sanitary.</p><p>Natalya smiled at her and ripped the cap off another needle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand

**Author's Note:**

> Just in time for Femslash February! This is really just bloodplay smut. There's one moment of possible body horror that caused the warning; check the end notes for specifics.
> 
> Title taken from Evanescence's "Good Enough."

Blood trickled down between her small breasts and pooled in the dip between them, then continued down the side of her stomach to stop in the hollow of her hip.

Erzsébet shivered.

Natalya hummed absently around the needles she was holding in her mouth.

Specifically, she was humming the Internationale. She had been humming it for some time, but Erzsébet had failed to recognize it, what with the needles.

Somewhere there was a tiny, far off corner of her mind that wasn't occupied with how very red the spot of blood on Natalya's cheek was against her pale skin, and the way the pain of the needles felt like white hot sparks in Erzsébet's skin. In that part, that in fact seemed completely detached from the present situation, Erzsébet thought that humming intelligibly around so many needles was an impressive achievement. She also wondered if putting them in her mouth like that was sanitary.

Natalya smiled at her and ripped the cap off another needle. The sound it made when she dropped it onto the wooden floor seemed very, very loud, and Erzsébet was not thinking at all.

Natalya's nails were long, and they scraped Erzsébet's skin when she pinched it below her breasts. The needle went in one side of the gathered skin and out the other, and Natalya let go.

Erzsébet tried very hard not to scream.

At some point soon the endorphins would take away most of the pain and it would be a moot point, but that time hadn't arrived yet. Erzsébet let her head hang down so she could see another trickle of blood come from the place on her ribcage and join the stream.

Natalya took the last needle out of her mouth and popped the cap off. “No one will grant us deliverance,” she sang, absent mindedly. “No god, no tsar, nor hero...”

The needle went into her skin and Erzsébet gasped. “Could we get a different sound track, maybe?” she asked, teeth gritted.

The singing drifted off into humming, and for a moment Erzsébet thought she was going to ignore her. Then, “I could sing Himnusz if you like?”

“I was thinking something a little less loaded, actually.”

The skin around the first needles, just below her collar bones, was starting to bruise from how hard Natalya had pinched it. The skin had gone blue. Despite that, the rush had finally hit and she was beginning to feel giddy instead of nervewracked.

“Could you put on a CD or something, Natasha?”

“Perhaps.” Natalya frowned at her. “You must promise not to bleed on the floors while I go, Hungary,” she chided. “The remodelling was very expensive. I would not like to stain the wood again.”

The remodelling, as far as Erzsébet knew, had been done at least fifteen years before, and the wooden floors were chipped and scratched. One of the nearest dents had been put in by the two of them practicing with swords; Natalya had fallen to the floor and taken a good two inch chunk of the wood when her sword impacted it.

Also, Erzsébet's hands were currently tied to the living room wall, and she couldn't actually move enough to change the path of her bleeding.

“Promise,” Natalya chided.

Reluctantly, Erzsébet nodded

“Good girl!” Natalya patted her cheek. “The damavik will take care of you if you need anything! Just shout! He sometimes looks like me, but his singing voice is nowhere near as sweet,” she confided, and swung off into the house.

The damavik. Right. Erzsébet closed her eyes, found her mind had immediately summoned the mental image of a very small bearded man ogling her naked, and opened them immediately.

There was no damavik to be found. It was entirely possible he only existed within the confines of Natalya's superstition. Or possibly hallucinations. Still, it was always hard to tell with Nations. England had a pet unicorn.

By the time Natalya came back downstairs, Erzsébet had strained her neck trying to watch for small hairy house spirits in all directions simultaneously.

“Hungary!” Natalya chided, laughing very hard from the doorway as she strode in. “You're thrashing like a nervous horse. Did the damavik scare you?”

“Haven't seen him,” Erzsébet said. “Did you bring the CD?”

“Yes. Finland sent it to me just last week,” Natalya said thoughtfully. “He isn't so bad, you know, even if he did try to kill my brother.”

“Your brother was trying to kill him,” Erzsébet pointed out.

“Vanya can't help what his leaders want. There was no need to put so many bullets in his head.”

Erzsébet elected not to pursue this line of conversation.

The CD was – well, more or less exactly what she would have expected from a CD Finland had sent. The thrashing cords seemed to get inside her brain and make her body pulse in time. The little sparks of pain up and down her chest, the stinging in her wrists where the rope wrapped them, the heat in her pelvis all beat in time.

Natalya knelt in front of her, skirts pooling on the floor. When she looked up at her, her blond hair spilled down her shoulders, and the blood was gone.

She looked like some girl Erzsébet might have known long ago, a human lover whose name she had forgotten. An innocent and sincere affair, unlike that of Nations. The heat seemed to grow and spread from those points until it suffused Erzsébet's entire body.

When she pressed her lips to Erzebet's thigh it was to follow the trickle of blood, though, and her lips came away redder than before. “You promised,” Natalya chided, trailing her fingers down her instep to cup Erzsébet's foot.

Shivers rose from the tickle of Natalya's fingers against the sole, all the way up Erzsébet's leg and throughout her body until she shuddered with it.

“Did I bleed on the floor?” she gasped.

Natalya measured with her fingers and tapped them against Erzebet's thigh. “Two inches,” she said. “What if I'd come back a few minutes later?”

“I guess the damavik would have had to take care of it,” Erzsébet said, resigning herself to Natalya's game. “Or you'd have had to beat me for breaking the promise.”

As if she had not come here for the express purpose of engaging in Natalya's game.

“Maybe I should beat you anyway,” Natalya said thoughtfully. “You don't seem to have _intended_ to keep it.”

Her fingers walked up Erzsébet's leg to rub against her crotch, and it was increasingly hard to focus on the conversation. The music wasn't helping. It had just changed songs, and Erzsébet was discovering with some dismay that when the lyrics were in German she could _understand_ them. 

“As you like, Natasha,” she stuttered.

“Hm.” Natalya rose in one graceful movement, skirts swirling around her. “I would have to take the needles off in case they broke in your flesh. That would be terribly unfortunate.”

“You could always put more in after.”

“I could!” Natalya considered this at length. She tilted her head to the side to think, and her hair obscured the view Erzsébet had previously been enjoying of her cleavage. “But then I would have to keep you tied up for a very long time, and the circulation in your hands might not like it. I'm out of needles, you see, and it takes a while for them to arrive by mail order.”

“I see,” Erzsébet said at length. “Maybe you had better not then.”

“So I won't beat you today,” Natalya concluded brightly. “Maybe next time. But I'll have to find some other way to punish you instead.”

Without further preamble, she took ahold of the first needle, the one two inches from Erzsébet's collar bone, and  _pulled_ .

The song had changed. The new one was in the middle of a guitar solo, and the music crescended as the heat rose against in Erzsébet. In fact, it seemed to become blindingly hot, so hot that her vision went white with it for a moment and her skin seemed to burn and she did scream, then.

Panting slighty, Erzsébet went slack against the ropes. Then she opened her eyes. She did not quite remember closing them.

Natalya gazed at her thoughtfully and licked blood from the edge of the needle. There was a tiny shred of flesh hanging from the end of it. Erzsébet considered this, and on reflection decided she would rather stop.

“Are you alright?” Natalya asked with mild concern.

The singer began screeching the chorus of the song, and the heat in Erzsébet was matched by the heat in Natalya's eyes, and there was blood on her white apron and her hair. Erzsébet was limp against the ropes and shivering and her skin felt clammy in a way that said  _too much_ and there was nowhere, absolutely nowhere she would rather be.

Erzsébet tried to gather her thoughts. It was like thinking through smoke; she had to search for the right one. “Green,” she said eventually.

“Seven more to go, then,” Natalya said calmly, and reached out.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: at one point a needle is ripped out of someone's flesh forcibly the wrong way.


End file.
